It’s been a year now, and checking the stats, there have been 363 entries and twice that of comments. But the important thing is this: I started out dedicating this blog to writing, mine and others, and finally, FINALLY~~ I seem to have returned to that with the present “Poetry Workshop”.
This last year has been one of challenges and real growth. It wasn’t nice and painless, but I learned important things about myself. And about many around me.
So much was worked out on the blog. And people saw the transformations and the blemishes. They also saw the growth of the blog, and the blogger.
I learned I don’t take to fools well, finding an answering chord in my own foolishness. I don’t like emotional bullies and have learned to call them for what they are, pulling back the interesting cover they assume. I also realized whatever ‘wisdom’ they might have was transitory and not of a lasting grace. I have learned some men are just cads.
The lessons were hard and tough, and some days I found myself lost. It was the concern of friends who pulled me through and made me laugh… at myself. Humour is essential to life and without it, the world is pretty dark.
But this is just life and sometimes we act like fools. The true measure is if we pull up out of a nose dive and learn…go on.
I have a number of friends who stood by me this entire year of ups and downs. And some of them have a passing understanding of what they have meant to me: Bill Penrose, who put together my first book: “A Seasoning of Lust” published this Feb, 2009; Oxartes, who from Jerusalem, a dear friend and an Orthodox Jew has become a great guide and voice in more than theology. He has made bare the false from the true on this subject and revealed the fakirs. Rose who has become a sister to me; Margie who has resurfaced from a past life and is now contributing to the blog with her poetry; Nick who, along with Bill, grabbed me almost 3 years ago and sat me down in a private writers group; Jerry who has been a heart-friend, almost a litter mate for 45 years; Mary who has been a friend through the thick of it; Katie and Angie and Susan who are a pack of heart witches and the best women to ‘hang with’ (and also great writers); Brady! Who always makes me laugh and under his bluster, is a very sensitive poet; John Taurus and John Sokol who came out of the local bdsm scene, saw a trainwreck approaching and stood firm and still give the best guidance on weird things; Dr. RK Singh who calls me ‘colleague’ in our poetry efforts, and is just about the most encouraging of writers around; and my husband, Fred who had faith his wife would ‘pull up’ and become a better writer and poet.
All these people (and many I haven’t mentioned because I am half awake this morning) made or contributed to the blog is ways big and small. Some days they took control of the blog and wrote the entries. Some days they knew I was in no shape to write, but they kept the blog going through their good efforts.
But the point is this: This year was a mixture of so many influences and ideas, and over all, it wasn’t a bad one.
Just Longgggg.
So, where are we now? Well, I have decided to continue the blog for a while, having struggled with the benefit to a writer. I am working on two novels (Agh, Bill, I am following your advice, and I think you must have been Gestapo in a past life…) “Devil’s Revenge” and “The Kimono” and am preparing a manuscript of poetry: “White Cranes of Heaven”.
I am happy a couple of poems and stories have been actually asked for by different publishers: one in Japan (tanka anthology) and another press here in the states.
But what delights me is the blog has grown in readership and people tell me ‘it’s entertaining’. That is gold to the ears of a writer. I believe this is the best place for the ‘writing impulse’. It’s a simple issue of storytelling and that really is enough in the span of things.
There has been some private debate about this issue of rewriting poetry and prose. I see no way around it. Writing IS rewriting…and those who think they can bypass this are rather foolish in my estimation. I believe this rewriting is the refining fire and to say it’s not necessary or to push the message that it ‘pollutes and reduces’ the strength of the original ‘thought’ needs additional thinking.
I was one who was ‘too much in love with my words’ in my prose and poetry. That got knocked out of me when the attempt at communication through those words was falling flat.
The ‘theme du jour’ during the Poetry Workshop running right now is that we Do Not Fear rewriting, in fact, we glory in it. Better poets through culling and clarifying. Millions of words out there and we have choices!
Lady Nyo
QUIET BIRDS!
Quiet birds!
I have not changed you into metaphors yet.
Your chatter adds crystallized chaos
to last night’s tokaji droning upon the brain.
My eyes open with reluctance to splinters of light
challenging soft membranes.
The smell of black coffee cuts
Into the reality I am no longer young.
Nights like last should be wrapped in tissue
locked deep in a trunk, to find when I am past temptations
and have room only for memories and regrets.
Quiet, birds.
The day looks promising.
I await a new flock of metaphors with black polished feathers
to land on my shoulders and weigh me down
with colorful daydreams, peacock words, Bird of Paradise thoughts!
For some reason this morning, words, whole paragraphs,
circle my head, flap off in a thunder of wings,
the laughter of rude crows in my ears.
They leave bird dropping, a few cracked seeds to begin my penitence;
starvation wages for a poor poet, left to a flightless life.
Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2009
With thanks to George Szirtes, for the words: “Quiet Birds, I haven’t changed you into metaphors yet.”
Lady Nyo's Weblog 